


Christmas Unlike Any Other

by LadybugsFanfics



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Age Difference, Christmas, Christmas at the Hiddlestones, F/M, Fluff, age gap, its mostly fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21771361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadybugsFanfics/pseuds/LadybugsFanfics
Summary: requested by @/marvelouslymightymia:Okay! Here me out! Y/N and Tom’s family are like super close. When Tom last saw Y/N, he was 32 (shooting Avengers 2012) & she was 14 and growing, & nerdy, now she’s 20, tall, (5’9”) and totally Tom’s type (ooh alliteration). The Hiddleston’s invite Y/N over for Christmas since her parents are on vacation and Mama Hiddleston is adamant on setting them up. Just lots of fluff and cute stuff. I love you lovely ❤️
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Christmas Unlike Any Other

You pull the car to a stop in the driveway, parking it so close to the edge so that there’s room for other cars. Two others are already there, one of which you guess belongs to Diana and the other you’re not so sure, but you’re guessing it’s one of her children’s. 

It’s been two years since you last set foot in the house, and out of the Hiddleston family, you’d only seen Diana and Emma. With it being Christmas, you’re silently praying for the other two to be home as well. It has been a long time since you last saw Sarah, not only because she moved to India but also because she was _that_ much older than you and hadn’t had the time. When it came to Tom, well… let’s just say you haven’t seen him since you were fourteen, young, and nerdy with pimples all over your face and annoyingly stupid body proportions. You haven’t seen him since you had that huge crush on him. 

Thankfully, you’d grown into your body. A roaming height, curves in all the right places and a face that has, not totally, but almost cleared up. The glasses still exist though, as you haven’t managed to get rid of them―lenses just doesn’t work. 

You take a look in the rearview mirror, just double checking that you actually feel presentable. A little light pink lipstick colors your lips, and a thin layer of mascara has your eyes pop and draw attention away from the things you don’t like about your face. 

Then you get out of the car, taking with you your keys and phone. From the trunk, you get your suitcase and, after locking the car, trudge up the driveway and to the door. Moments later, after a ring of the doorbell, Diana opens the door with a huge welcoming smile and open arms. 

“How lovely to see you,” she says and pulls you in for a hug. You can’t protest before you’re wrapped in her warm embrace, and the nerves that were coursing through your veins at the prospect of your first christmas without your parents die down a little. Diana is like a second mom (even though you don’t see her as often as you would like), and her hospitality always makes you relax. No matter how nervous you are, Diana has found the cure to help you. 

She let’s go of you, and walks further into the entrance-hall to let you step in. “Thank you for inviting me. It feels better than to sit alone at home.” 

Diana waves the thought away, shaking her head. “Of course. You’re family. I would have wished for your parents to join as well, but they deserve this little break. When was the last time they got some time off?” As she speaks, she takes your suitcase from you and starts walking, beckoning you to follow. 

“I think it’s a few years now. Last time I was with them was that little trip to Norway in 2014. Other than that I think they’ve only had work trips, though sometimes together.” 

“They work too much. No wonder you decided to go into science, you’re just like them.” Diana shakes her head, but you can hear the fondness in her voice. She stops outside a door. “Here you go, sweetie. Tom’s old room.” 

Your heart beats a little faster at that, and dies down quickly enough. That probably means he won’t show, right? But it also means that both Sarah and Emma will be here, and that makes up for it anyways. 

Diana opens the room and turns on the lights. There’s the small bed you remember from being here as a kid, the same sheets as before (spider-man), and an extra mattress on the floor. It’s only as Diana smiles and puts down your suitcase you notice there’s already a suitcase in the room.

“I put you in here because everyone else that comes are bringing with them the whole bunch of family. Hope it’s okay you have to share a room with Tom?”

You swallow a lump in your throat, but nod. _God, he’s here. Holy fuck._ “That’s totally fine,” you say, and hope she doesn’t notice the slight strain in your voice. 

Diana beams and claps her hands together. “Good. Now, join me in the kitchen. I’m making dinner and doing the last preparations for tomorrow.” 

“Sure, of course.” 

The walk to the kitchen is short, only a few sentences with conversation until you’re leaning against the counter waiting for a task. You’re trying desperately to appear nonchalant and cool and adult when Tom comes in, but when his eyes open wide and a huge smile spreads across his face at seeing you, you can’t help but awkwardly smile hi and try to ignore the flutter in your gut. 

_Guess the crush still lingers then, huh?_

“Could you make the sauce, Y/N?” asks Diana, and your eyes flicker her way. She gives you a knowing look, and you groan internally (your mom talks and she probably talks to Diana). 

“What kind of sauce is it?” you ask as Diana hands you a piece of paper. It’s a list of ingredients and how to make the sauce. The title reads _Brown Sauce_ and you really want to face palm, but you’re _not_ gonna act as if you think yourself an idiot. No one will get the pleasure of seeing the embarrassment on your face whenever it comes (and it comes often). 

“Oh, it’s just an easy sauce. It’s for tonight’s dinner.” Diana cuts vegetables as she talks. “All the ingredients are there so you don’t have to look anywhere.” _God, the woman is so sweet, thinks of everything_. 

You look at the counter, going over what’s there, how much you need and figure out if you need to cut anything. You don’t have to the latter, and after a readthrough of the whole recipe, you start. 

It takes no time to make the sauce. Eventually, Diana takes over because it only needs to stir and she can do that herself. The smile on her face as she takes over is the cutest smile possible and you can’t help but feel lucky to have her in your life. 

“Go sit down with Tom. Take him away from his work,” she says and shoos you out of the kitchen. “He overworks himself so make sure he doesn’t, okay?”

You shake your head with a smile as you walk into the living room. To your surprise, Tom isn’t there. That kind of helps actually, and instead of trying to look for him, you slump down on the couch and pull your phone out of your pocket. 

One of the friends you’ve gotten at the university has texted you nonstop for the last hour (your phone kept vibrating in your back pocket, but you were trying to be nice as Diana kept up a little conversation whilst you helped her). 

_Hey, you there yet? | Is he as handsome as he is in pictures? | Have you talked to him yet? | come on, dont leave me in the dark | bish talk to me | helloooo | aaaaaa | a | a | a | a | a | a | a | y you no answer???? | come on give me the deets | Y/N!!!!!!!!_

All the texts stare at you and you roll your eyes at their behavior. You text back quickly; _im there, he’s more handsome than pics, i have talked to him but barely, and now ill leave you in the dark forever ;)_

As you hit send, you get out of your messages and end up scrolling through instagram. First you check the dash for your private user, one where all your friends from both middle school, high school and uni are, and as that gets boring you switch accounts to one where the dash is practically full of Tom. 

It’s not like you’ve ever really tried to hide your crush on him. Other than say avoid any fanfiction of him, try to avoid really knowing what he’s doing except hear it from your mom, but then he starred in Thor as Loki and something happened and you can excuse it so well it doesn’t really matter. 

Well, other than the fact that, even if he doesn’t use instagram or twitter so often, you know he has a private one where he follows friends and family. In the last nine years since you’ve seen him, his only interaction with you has been liking your photos. It’s been a great hell. Sometimes he even commented, usually just small things like saying hi to your parents from him, or asking whether a movie was good (mostly the ones he’s in, but he’s asked about some others as well). When the night manager got out and you watched it with your mom (bad idea) you posted a picture of it and instead of commenting, he sent you a DM asking if it was good and if it was awkward. 

How did you reply that ‘no, i really enjoyed it, especially the scenes where you’re almost naked and god you look good in a uniform’ and that ‘Jonathan Pine might have become a guilty pleasure’. Yeah, instead you said you enjoyed it and that it was some of his better work and that your mother seemed to like it, too. 

It’s not like the constant content he came with made you crush even harder. No, never, not at all, nope, that’s not it, nope, nuh, nah. 

“What are you doing?” 

His voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you quickly turn off your phone and press it to your chest. The horror can, apparently, be seen on your face because he chuckles as he sits down in the chair across from the couch. “That bad, huh?”

You shake your head. “No, not really, I just got surprised and I’m used to prying roommates, so…” You try to play it off with a laugh, but it comes out a little strained. All your mind can say is that it didn’t use to be this awkward. 

“So, we haven’t seen each other for a long time. How are you? How is studying going?” he asks, trying to lighten the mood probably. 

“No, we haven’t. I’m good. Weirded out by not spending christmas with my parents, but otherwise good. And studying is… going. Honestly, I regret taking programming. There is so much more math than I wanted there to be.” 

Tom smiles. “Can’t help you there, then. Mum said something about you taking subjects on the side?” He cocks his head, eyes trained on your face. 

The heat rises to your cheeks at his intense staring, but you try―and fail―to not let it show. “Yeah, taking psychology on the side.” You nod along to the words. “How about you? Your career is blooming, right?”

“Psychology is interesting. And I wouldn’t use the word blooming, but I am doing good, yes.” He adds a smile. 

“Diana says you’re overworking, though?” 

Tom gives a strained smile. “I don’t think so, but I do work a lot. It’s a tiring job doing all the time, but I love it. Couldn’t possibly imagine doing anything else.” 

You smile. “I get that. When you’re doing what you love, it doesn’t matter what the negatives are because the positives far outweigh them.” 

“Exactly.” 

His enthusiasm has the heat spread through your body. Whether that’s nerves because you haven’t really seen him in long, or if it’s because of lingering feelings, you aren’t sure. But it feels good no matter the reason. It has you smile, probably brighter and fonder than you would have liked him to notice. 

Tom leans a bit forward. His eyes wrinkle at the sides, showing how big he’s smiling. You press your lips together and let out an involuntary sigh. Thankfully, Tom doesn’t notice. 

“Do you see your sisters often?” you ask, steering the conversation over to something else. 

“Not as often as I’d like.” He smiles. “I see Emma more often than Sarah, but at least they’re both coming here for christmas this year. I can’t wait to see them again.”

“I bet.” You mirror his smile. “I remember always being jealous of the three of you. Having siblings, them being there for you and just… yeah.” The awkwardness in you oozes as you realize what you just admitted. _Don’t let it show, don’t let it show_. 

“Really? But you had that one friend of yours? What was his name again?” 

You shake your head. “We grew apart.” The words come out easily, but you’re certain the half-hearted smile coloring you face shows the truth―how much him creating distance from you had hurt. 

Tom smiles, almost apologetically. 

Thankfully, Diana calls seconds before he can say something on the subject. Her voice rings across the living room asking both of you to help set the table and that dinner is ready in a few minutes. 

You stand from your place, leave your phone on the coffee table and head for the kitchen, where you find Diana humming to herself as she goes between stirring and frying. The woman looks content and you can’t help but smile at the sight. Something about the atmosphere in the kitchen and the vibe Diana gives, is just… contagious. 

“The plates and cutlery is right there, love.” She points to the counter and smiles. 

You nod, take the dishes and place them on the dining table in the dining room. In no time, the table is full of food and the three of you sit down, ready to eat. 

The silence lies on you as you eat, all too engulfed in the good food to really keep up a conversation. Tom and Diana has a small one, with words here and there, but you never really manage to get in a word. 

When you’re all done, you offer to do the dishes. Diana smiles and thanks you and tells Tom to help. 

Which is why you’re standing with your sleeves shoved up your arms and your arms deep in soapy hot water with Tom at your side with a drying towel. Neither of you are really talking, but the silence isn’t awkward or wrong. In fact, it feels quite nice. 

Until, Diana’s voice breaks it and comes into the kitchen. “Y/N, I think you’re phone is ringing.” You glance back at her. “It’s, uhm, Y/F/N?”

“Oh.” You take a look back at your hands. “Can you press the message button? Looks like a text bubble, and then press the one with ‘can’t talk right now’. I’ll call them up when I’m done.”

Diana fumbles a little, but after a few seconds she smiles and says “done.” She puts your phone down on the counter, leaving the face up for you to see messages that came during dinner. You silently curse Diana for leaving it up as you manage to get a small glimpse of not one, not two, but _three_ messages mentioning Tom’s name. 

_Way to go, Y/F/N._

You pray that Tom didn’t see them, but you’re not certain based on the smile on his face. 

—

The night falls away slowly. At the end of the night, Diana has gone to bed and you and Tom sit alone in the living room watching a movie. Only, you can’t say you’re really watching the movie. 

Every other minute you turn your head to sneak a peek at Tom. His eyes are glued to the television screen, which you find peculiar as you’re watching Love Actually and there’s no way in hell he’s never seen it before. 

About two thirds into it you get up from the couch. “You want anything to drink?” you ask him, and Tom’s blue eyes pierce yours when he turns to look at you. 

He gives a small smile, scrunches his nose a little and nods. “If Mum has any wine, would you care to share a bottle?” 

_That_ was not the expected response. You heart hammers in your head as you stare at him, unable to form a sentence that can work as a reply. Well, until you get out of your head and actually just nod seeing as it was a yes or no question. Those are usually pretty easy to answer. Though, as you’ve learned, not always. 

“Sit down, I’ll get it. I know where Mum keeps the good wine.” Tom stands up and _winks_. 

It takes you a minute to sink back onto the couch. Your heart pounds, so fast it’s almost like it’s stuck in one beat that’s lasting forever. Your mouth has stopped working, you don’t think you could say anything, even if it was someone else than Tom asking the question. Every bone in your body feels like they’ve turned to jelly. 

On top of it all, your mind went back to what Diana had said right before she went to bed. _You two have a lovely evening. If there’s anything you need you know where to find it, right Tom? And if you would like something to make it cosier, there is no problem with that._

Fuck, had Diana set that up? Had she planted the idea in Tom’s head? Did the dude even realize?

You can’t be sure, and you’re less sure when Tom comes back with a bottle of wine and two glasses and sits down on the couch _next to you_ instead of the other one. He’s moving closer to you, _closer_ to _you_. 

You watch mesmerized as he pours the two glasses. Something tells you that the grace of his fingers against yours as he hands you one of them, is done on purpose. Yet, your mind tells you that that’s crazy. Tom Hiddleston is fifteen years older than you. He has every other person to choose from. He would never choose you. 

Which you tell yourself the rest of the night. That’s what you tell yourself when he pours another glass for himself, for you, and another―the bottle made for six glasses apparently. You cannot comprehend where the day has gone. 

When the second movie is over, you yawn and voice your need for sleep. And in a moments panic realize you’re sleeping in the same room as him. You’re sleeping in the same room as a slightly buzzed Tom Hiddleston. 

To be honest, life is looking really good going forward. 

“I suppose I should turn in, too.” Tom smiles and glances down at his watch. “It is after midnight after all.”

You make an agreement about changing in his room whilst the other is in the bathroom. Which makes for you changing to pyjamas as he brushes his teeth (both agreeing that you’d probably use longer because of makeup), and when he comes back in, you’re standing there in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and the _almost_ indistinguishable look he gives you has chills creep up your spine. 

_God, he’s not allowed to do that_ , holy hell do you kind of appreciate it. 

You only use a good fifteen minutes in the bathroom, and though longer than Tom, not by much. The room bathes in darkness save from the tiny light from Tom’s night stand lamp. He glances up from his book (yeah, _book_ ) as you enter and climb under the duvet Diana fixed for you. 

As a really stupid nighttime rutine, you open your phone and scroll through everything, as well as answering Y/F/N’s many texts. All of them are them complaining about you not giving them anything to go on. You smile as you reply, quite smugly, that you’re sharing a room with the man they like so much. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

Tom’s voice has you startle a little and you drop your phone to the mattress. You look up at him, see his eyes glance curiously over you. It’s nearly hallucinating to watch his blue eyes trace your features―and it definitely does you no good in the steady-heart-rhythm department. That ship’s long gone. 

However, you nod, lips pressed together as if you’re afraid of the question. Something that you guess might be the truth, but you’re also anticipating it with a burning fever. It’s been a few seconds, yet your mind keeps reeling because he’s using so _looong_. 

He clears his throat. In the dim lighting you can see his adam apple bobble as he swallows. “When did you… When did you get so tall?” 

This man. _This man_ , has a thing for asking the questions you’re not expecting. You shrug. “I don’t know. Suddenly came when I turned sixteen I think.” 

Tom nods, seemingly satisfied with the answer. He turns to lie on his back, looking up at the ceiling. You follow his gaze, wait expectantly for more as your heart drums within your ribcage, vibrating at a frequency it hasn’t before. That feeling of impending sweat follows after, and you try not to let the nervousness get to you, but at the same time; _you’re lying in Tom Hiddleston’s childhood room with Tom Hiddleston and he’s speaking to you and asking you stuff and it’s hard not to feel like you’re gonna implode_. 

“Have you had any luck on the love front?” 

Being too caught up in you thoughts, you nearly miss the question. Your head swivels to the side, catching the last of Tom’s glance. You shake your head, clear your thoughts and take a deep breath. “No, can’t say there has been.”

“You haven’t been with anyone? No boyfriends? Girlfriends? Nothing?” 

You shrug. “I’ve tried a few times these past few years, I guess. Went on a couple of dates but it never worked out. Longest it worked for was about six weeks.” You turn to lie on your side, looking up at him with a better angle. “What about you? There hasn’t been much on the news front on your love life. Except the rumors about you dating Zawe.”

A thin smile graces Tom’s lips. “I guess I’ve been rather private.” He looks to you, now a smirk on his lips. “But, if you know that, you have to have been keeping up with what I do?”

“Very funny.” You roll your eyes. “No, in fact, I have a super huge fan of yours that’s become my friend. Took me a long time to tell her I know you and after she found out, she can’t shut up. But I did actually see Betrayal whilst it was here in London. Unfortunately, I missed you.”

“That’s too bad.” His smile has turned somewhat nostalgic. “It has been a while since we last met. You look almost like another person.”

“Says you, Mr. Beard-And-Long-Hair?” 

Tom scoffs. “You know as well as I, that I grow out my hair and beard if there’s no need in cutting it.”

“I guess.”

He lets a beat of silence pass before he asks, “do you like it?”

“What? The hair and beard?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t say I don’t.”

“In what way?”

You press your lips together. “Well, this is gonna sound really fucking stupid, but I like guys with beards. Chris Evans also does it, you know. Cap was best in Infinity War with the beard no matter how much I hated the movie.” You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the next words you’re gonna utter. “And, you rock pretty much any look. If I’m going to be totally honest, and today I will be, I would not mind more Jonathan Pine, though. But I’m loving this, too. It might be that you look more mature.”

Tom doesn’t reply. 

You start to believe maybe you said something wrong, but then you hear the bed squeak and you can see Tom sit up. _God, you’re not complaining_ , because in doing so, the duvet fell off and the man’s sleeping in only his boxers. 

“Isn’t Evans a little old for you?” 

You raise a brow. “He’s your age, so no. I know there’s a lot of stigma around people dating younger people and that there’s the maturity level and the taking advantage of part and stuff, but I think, if you’re on a mature enough level―and important; know your own worth―age isn’t that big a deal. And you know, as well as me, that I’ve always liked older guys. Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Idris Elba, Daniel Craig, and the list goes on.”

“So, if someone my age were to ask you out, you’d say yes?”

“Totally depends on the guy. If it’s someone I know, that I have a somewhat relationship with and that I trust, I might. But if it’s a random dude on the street, no fucking way.” You sit up, too. “Why are you asking?”

In the dark, it’s hard to see if Tom blushes, but you’re almost certain that he does. “Mum might have mentioned you used to have a crush on me, but only after I went to the kitchen and you weren’t there and made a slight comment to how pretty you’ve gotten.” 

Your eyes go wide. “You- you think I’m pretty?” 

“I do.” Tom nods. “And I never would have given it a thought if it weren’t for you being mature and you’ve been in relationships, meaning you know what you want from them. I…”

“You don’t want to take advantage of the fact that I like you? The fact that I’m fifteen years younger?” 

“I don’t, no. Of course, I’m a private person. You won’t be in the limelight, I… You haven’t even said yes.”

“You haven’t asked either.”

The question isn’t the one you expect. “Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes.”

Since you were fourteen years old, you’ve imagined what it would be like to kiss Tom. However, when your lips meet, all those fantasies vanish into a vortex. Your mind goes blank, your body lights on fire, and your heart pounds fervently. 

This was not how you saw Christmas going, but you guess there’s nothing wrong with it. After all, when have you not joked about getting Tom Hiddleston as a Christmas present?


End file.
